


The Captain's Dilemma

by BarbwireRose



Series: The Captain and the Minx [5]
Category: Captain America (2011), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: AU, Happy Ending, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rocks Fall Everyone Dies, angst-fest, implied suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbwireRose/pseuds/BarbwireRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In all his years, Steve had never faced a dilemma such as this, and the thought of facing off with someone who he had grown to love caused his chest to tighten whenever he felt Loki’s gaze finally land on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain's Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping in line with the rest of the entries in this series, this one has also been rewritten due to the fact that I found Loki to be too ooc for my liking. Like seriously, after watching The Avengers, I went back and reread my stuff and facepalmed big time. As you can see, I dropped the M rating cuz I didn't think it was necessary, but I left in a bit from the previous version, which I plan to expound upon in a follow up using elements from The Avengers, namely Thor knowing about Loki's heritage. Anyways, I'm sorry if you liked the old versions of the stories in this series, but they've been bugging the life out of me since May. :(

_As nauseating as it was to admit, there was no denying the change that had recently come over Loki, for it was obvious by the way he smiled now that the Trickster had become different somehow. Unlike the conniving grins he used to wear in the past, these new smiles reached all the way up into Loki’s eyes and gave him a look of vulnerability, which hadn’t been seen on his features since well before his fall from grace. Just picturing the out of place expression was more than unsettling, but once the source of Loki’s transformation was revealed, these feelings of disquiet intensified. As the Norns would have it, the one responsible was none other than an enemy, which wouldn’t have been so dreadful if it hadn’t have hit so close to home._

_With this new development, it became clear that the Trickster needed to be reminded of the lesson he had had no trouble teaching to his fellow villains: there was no such thing as a happy ever after for people like them, only the pain of disappointment and the bittersweet taste of vengeance, for they were outcasts and as such were destined to be alone. Alas, the only way to correct this injustice was to bring the proud Trickster to his knees, which meant sacrificing those that the god held dear. Come to think of it, having Loki be the one to destroy the person who had changed him sounded perfect, and if the other man managed to take the Trickster down with him in the process then so be it. Either way Loki would learn that things like hope, love, and acceptance were not made for souls who had been forged from bitterness and spite._

Loki never saw the ominous mist that overtook him and rendered him incapacitated, but a portion of his mind, which had been deemed a weakness, screamed in protest as it was surrounded by a frigid layer of ice while his eyes raced back and forth beneath their lids helplessly.

δ

Steve felt his eyes slant to the side in order to catch a glimpse of the clock on his nightstand for perhaps the tenth time in the last hour, and after he saw that he’d spent the majority of the morning on the same chapter of his book he decided to call it quits. There was no use in trying to convince himself that things were fine when he knew good and well they were anything but; the prickly feeling skimming across his skin was evidence enough that something was ‘off’ somewhere. The blond heaved a shaky sigh as he replaced his bookmark and set the volume aside while the urge to take out his excess energy on the equipment room warred with his desire for answers. As clichéd as it sounded, it was the not knowing what was wrong that was driving him crazy, but Steve hesitated to voice his misgivings to the others without having any proof to back up his hunch.

Truth be told, the Captain had the distinct impression that his unease coincided with the fact that he hadn’t seen neither hide nor hair of Loki in nearly five days, which was the longest period between visits since Christmas. A sardonic smirk twisted the soldier’s lips as he thought about what his comrades would say when they found out he was worried over one of their most lethal opponents, for Steve knew he couldn’t keep his relationship with Loki a secret forever.

As he made his way down to the equipment room, the Captain contemplated making a stop at Loki’s place later on in the afternoon after he had finished going a few rounds with the heavy bag. Steve had no idea that his world was about to be ripped right out from under him whenever Tony’s voice crackled over the room’s intercom a short while later, for the easy tone requesting that he join the rest of the team upstairs gave nothing away as to the reason behind the summons. However, once he was seated in his customary spot at the briefing table, Steve felt icy fingers of trepidation close in around his heart, causing his breath to quicken until the spacious room felt suffocating.

There was really only one reason to call a meeting like this, and judging by the hitch in his chest, Steve had the sinking suspicion that Loki would be at the heart of the matter. A quick look across the table to where Thor sat worrying his bottom lip let the soldier know that he wasn’t the only one on edge, and Steve hastened to provide his uncharacteristically solemn colleague with a thin smile in an attempt at lifting both of their spirits. Returning the gesture, however, proved to be too much for Thor, for the thunder god hastily lowered his gaze to the transparent tabletop and folded his arms tightly across his chest.

The Captain didn’t blame Thor for his inability to remain professionally detached, for he himself couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt more helpless, and if given the choice, he’d never willingly experience the sensation again. Lucky for them, their superior didn’t keep them waiting for long before bringing up what appeared to be surveillance photos of the history museum located at the other end of town, but when Fury went on to explain the situation, Steve was unable to catch a word of what the man was saying, for he couldn’t hear much over the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins.

The pictures showed the back of a well-dressed man with a mane of raven hair casually strolling through the building’s entrance, and with each successive shot it became clear that he was not only appraising the place but the people inside as well. The Captain had a pretty good idea of what had befallen the citizens in the pictures; however, that didn’t prevent a lump from forming in his throat whenever the last photo revealed an eerie blue light encapsulating the museum’s lower level, bathing the entirety of it in frost in a matter of seconds.

Although the mysterious figure’s identity was never captured on camera, Steve knew that his colleagues had already come to the same conclusion he had, and when the sounds of the room finally began to slowly trickle back into his ears, the soldier discovered that he now had a softball-sized lump in his stomach, which he assumed was his heart. It was the conspicuous echo of cracking glass that alerted him to the fact that Thor was also fast losing his composure as they waited for Fury to finish speaking, but the only thing Steve could focus on amongst the sea of noises was one little word.

“Why?” The question was no more than a puff of air, but he may as well have shouted it from the mountain tops for all the echoing that reverberated in his head afterwards. Steve wasn’t naïve enough to believe that Loki would change his ways entirely simply because they had formed a unique bond, but this bizarre regression in behavior had left him well and truly stumped. However, despite having reservations about facing off with the Trickster, Steve had to admit that it was the only way to procure the answers he so desperately needed, and besides that…he and Thor would be the only buffers Loki would have should things take a turn for the worst.

As Fury’s indistinct dismissal floated into his ears, the Captain couldn’t help but wonder if something had transpired during the time Loki was incommunicado, for he remembered how much the god had despised his Jotun nature that day in the park. “Only one way to know for sure,” Steve mumbled under his breath, heaving himself up from his seat with a great deal more effort than what should have been required. Although his body went through the motions of putting on his uniform, the blond felt as if he were operating on autopilot, for the only thing his mind seemed to be capable of focusing on was the heartrending image of a fair face staring hopelessly at him from behind a wall of frosted glass.

δ

When the Avengers finally arrived on the scene, Steve allowed Tony to take point, because somewhere along the way the soldier’s voice had decided to abandon him. He knew that if the others had been aware of the thoughts that had churned about in his head during their journey to the museum they would have forced him to stay behind, for there was no other word to describe his feelings but treasonous. Learning that innocent civilians had been transformed into living ice sculptures should have instilled a feeling of anger within him, but all Steve felt was a sense of dread. Even as he stealthily moved about the lower level of the museum, the blond couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that Loki was in trouble and this was somehow the god’s cry for help, the vice around his heart cinching tighter with each frozen face he passed by.

“Son of a bitch…there’s a group of kids over here. It looks like a class was here on a field trip,” the mechanical voice of Tony Stark informed his colleagues solemnly. The two Avengers who had accompanied him into the museum strode across the room to join him, but Iron Man resolutely kept his attention locked onto the smattering of figures laid out before him, only turning his head away when he heard Thor inhale a particularly sharp breath. “I thought you said that your brother had a soft spot for kids?” Stark all but growled.

“Aye, he does,” Thor replied shakily. “Loki would never have willingly harmed a child in this way.” The tightening of the god’s hand around the haft of his hammer should have been enough of an indicator to ward off any more comments about his estranged sibling, but by that point Tony was too riled up to care about the consequences of trampling over his comrade’s feelings.

“Look, I know it’s hard for you to see the guy as anything except your brother, but Loki’s not exactly playing with a full deck, Thor, and he probably does shit like this for fun,” Iron Man informed Thor heatedly, motioning to the group of frozen children in front of them. “Now, if you don’t think you’re up to taking him down–” Tony’s voice was abruptly cut off with a splutter when the red-faced thunder god wrapped a meaty hand around his metal-covered throat and squeezed.

“You will hold your tongue, Stark, for I will suffer no more of your venomous words about my brother,” Thor spat, and in that instant it became clear why he was known as the god of thunder. Ominous reverberations began to sound outside in the wake of the blond’s roar, and although it couldn’t be seen through the protective covering of his mask, Tony swallowed down a lump of fear for his own safety.

Once he was satisfied that Stark had gotten the message, Thor shoved the Iron Man away with a snarl and turned to continue his prowling of the premises, the Asgardian making no effort to conceal his presence from possibly hidden enemies. Although he tried not to let Tony’s words affect his judgment, Thor could not deny that Stark had managed to hit upon perhaps his greatest weakness, namely his love for Loki. Contrary to what his compatriots believed, the thunder god was not oblivious to his brother’s precarious grip on sanity; he simply chose to love Loki anyway. Truth be told, Thor somewhat blamed himself for the drastic change in Loki’s behavior, for his brother had not begun to display such violent tendencies until the thunder god’s return from exile.

“Loki would not do this,” Thor whispered to himself, shaking his head sadly at the miniscule sculpture of a little boy perched on a bench. The thought that his brother was indeed responsible for what had occurred here caused the thunder god to blink back the sting of tears. It was possible that someone was manipulating Loki to perpetrate evil acts against his will, and Thor zealously clung to this small ray of hope, for the alternative was simply too painful for him to contemplate.

After Thor had moved out of sight, Tony turned his illuminated gaze onto the somber form of one Steve Rogers and held out a hand in an entreaty for support. “Well, are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna say something?” Stark panted, using his free hand to gingerly probe his sore throat. Damn, it would hurt like a mother come tomorrow, he mused ruefully, making a mental note to never agitate Thor while he was within striking distance ever again.

Steve flinched at the grated words drifting out of Stark’s speaker and quickly averted his eyes from the frozen children he had been unconsciously staring at all throughout Thor and Tony’s confrontation. “What if Thor’s right?” he whispered, clenching his jaw tightly. “What if Loki didn’t mean for this to happen?”

“Yeah, if that was supposed to sound convincing, you did a lousy job,” Tony drawled, voice sounding stronger as he closed the distance between them and poked Steve’s chest with a metal-coated finger. “You know as well as I do that Loki’s responsible for this, but his reasons for doing what he does have never mattered before and they shouldn’t matter now either.”

The Iron Man punctuated his statement with a jab to the Captain’s pectoral muscle, but he was sadly disappointed when both his words and actions failed to produce any response from the blond save for a lowering of the eyes. Having therefore decided that convincing his comrade of the obvious was an act of futility, Tony chose to return to the matter at hand, tossing a firm, “We’re here to bring him down, Steve. If you got a problem with that then you can hang back,” over his shoulder.

Steve remained where he was standing for several minutes after Stark had left him alone, the blond reluctant to take part in the capture of a man who he had come to hold dear to his heart. No matter how hard he tried, Steve couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the idea that Loki had somehow willfully decided to stroll into a crowded museum and turn the place into an ice palace just for kicks, for he found the notion of the god exploiting his Frost Giant heritage hard to believe.

“I may be naïve, but I’m not an idiot,” the Captain muttered under his breath, gaze taking in the myriad of citizens who had been encapsulated in ice. He could tell that something was definitely wrong with Loki, and he was damn sure going to find what had sparked this drastic change in the god’s behavior, even if he had to go against his own teammates to do it.

δ

Although Thor had braced himself for the confrontation he knew deep in his heart to be inevitable, he could not prevent himself from taking a step back in horror whenever Loki finally made his appearance. His brother was wearing the skin of Asgard’s number one enemy, and judging by the confident smirk that curled the Trickster’s thin lips, Loki was well aware of his change in appearance.

“I see you have decided to grace me with your presence, brother,” Loki remarked silkily, voice as cool as the breath that wafted from between his frost-coated lips.

Each step the raven-haired god took was like a dagger to Thor’s heart, and when the Trickster finally came to a stop in front of him, the thunder god sucked in a shaky breath at what he found swimming in his brother’s eerily colored orbs. “What sort of trickery is this?” Thor asked quietly, tongue feeling thick and cumbersome within his mouth, for Loki’s eyes were but vacant pools the color of blood, completely devoid of emotion.

For the first time since he’d appeared on the scene, Loki showed traces of his old self by holding a finger to his lips in a mocking request for silence. “All in good time, Thor,” he whispered lowly, turning his eyes heavenward as if he were searching for something hidden amongst the hanging relics and skylights. After a handful of tense heartbeats, Loki finally grinned in satisfaction and made to drag something invisible through the air, but the ominous sounds of snapping wires and panicked cursing told the Avengers that he was in fact bringing Hawkeye down from his perch.

“Ok, playtime’s over,” Tony muttered, raising a whirring palm to the Trickster’s seemingly distracted figure.

“No!”

Stark had forgotten just how quick Steve Rogers could move until a blue blur deflected his repulsor blast into a strung up set of dinosaur bones. “Whose side are you on, Cap?!” the Iron Man all but shouted, having grown tired of his comrade’s antics. If they kept this up, Loki would have him a set of Avenger ice sculptures.

“No one needs to die here, Tony,” the Captain replied, but his calm demeanor only served to add fuel to his compatriot’s rage.

“Fine, you and Thor can stay here and play peacemaker, but I’m going to make sure that Clint doesn’t get dropped on his head,” Tony retorted. Unfortunately, the Iron Man never reached his destination, for Loki sent him careening through a far wall with a flick of his seemingly delicate wrist.

Seeing his comrade disappear amongst a sea of rubble was enough to snap Thor from his stupor, but when the blond made to raise his hammer, he found the edge of Loki’s dagger at his throat, the sorcerer clucking, “Mm, temper, temper,” as cool breath sent an unpleasant shiver down Thor’s spine.

“What is the meaning of this, brother?” the thunder god murmured, face screwed up in a mask of confusion. “Why do you wear the skin of our enemy?”

After surreptitiously watching the Captain make his way over to the fallen Hawkeye, Loki flicked his gaze back to his brother and favored the blond with a rueful smile. “There was a reason why I revoked my claim as your brother, Thor,” he remarked casually, voice trailing off when the thunder god’s feet unconsciously took a step back. The Trickster bitterly acknowledged that Thor’s look of disbelief was probably similar to the one he had worn himself whenever Odin had revealed the truth to him on that fateful day in the weapons vault.

“And what is the meaning of this?” Thor asked roughly, motioning to the gleaming pillars of ice, which were scattered all around them.

Loki appeared to study his surroundings for a moment before he finally shrugged, “Out of boredom I suppose,” his dagger shifting precariously with the movement as a brittle laugh spilled from between his thin lips. “One does tend to resort to drastic measures when one becomes consumed by idleness, wouldn’t you agree, Thor?”

“Nay, not even you would lower yourself to this level of depravity for mere amusement, Loki,” Thor bit out harshly, afraid that if he clenched his jaw any tighter it would shatter.

When Loki felt his brother’s spine straighten at the prospect of battle, he couldn’t help but sneer as he leaned in to whisper, “Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think you do.” Since he had detailed knowledge of the thunderer’s fighting techniques, Loki had sensed Thor’s upcoming strike long before the air whistled, and therefore parried out of the way of Mjlonir’s swing so that the hammer flew past him harmlessly.

With a quick spin of his lithe body, Loki effectively placed himself in the perfect position to deliver a death blow by exploiting the tiny opening in the side of Thor’s armor, a fact which the thunder god realized too little too late. Thor felt his eyes widen in shock when Loki’s dagger sliced a trail of white-hot fire through his side and all the way up into his chest, the tip coming to rest in the lower half of his heart. If he could have formed words through the rush of blood that welled from his mouth and ran down his chin, Thor would have cried out in denial, for surely this was but a nightmare he would wake from upon closing his eyes in death?

“Rest easy, Thor, for the rest of your friends will join you in slumber shortly,” Loki crooned, easing the dead weight in his arms down to the floor with a great amount of care. Unbeknownst to the other men in the room, he had managed to make quick work of their female colleague before they had even stepped foot through the gallery door, which meant the Trickster only had three Avengers left to do away with.

By now, the Iron Man had made his way to his feet and was attempting to advance upon him, and Loki allowed himself a wide smile at the sparks that shot out of Stark’s damaged suit. “You mortals truly are a marvel,” he remarked wryly, not waiting for the man to close the distance between them before he met Tony halfway. “You never give up do you?”

“Nope, stubbornness is kind of an ingrained trait for humans,” Tony retorted, but the sardonic zing that he’d been aiming for fell flat due to his inability to suck in a proper breath. Even though he'd used what little downtime the crash had afforded him to gather his strength together, the sight that greeted Tony upon stepping out of the gaping hole was enough to freeze the blood in his veins, for Thor’s body lay sprawled out in a pool of crimson some yards away. He noticed Steve was hunched over Clint’s prone form on the other side of the room, and although Tony had no idea where Natasha was, judging by the state of his other comrades he would have to say that it probably wasn’t anywhere good.

The Trickster acknowledged Stark’s reply with a grin that was all teeth as he slowly slipped a second dagger from its hidden sheath. “So I see,” he murmured, idly fingering the blade while he and Tony began a measured study of one another. “Tis a pity your green friend was unable to come. He would have made a lovely addition to my collection.”

“I’ll be sure to give him your regards,” Tony quipped, firing off a repulsor blast while the sorcerer was busy admiring his own handiwork. His shot ended up catching Loki in the shoulder, but unfortunately for Stark it wasn’t the god’s throwing arm that was hit.

The Trickster’s dagger was like a silver bullet as it flew through the air and solidly buried itself in the Iron Man’s left thigh, but despite this setback, the Avenger refused to go down quietly. “Is that the best you got?” he grunted, pulling the knife from his armor with great difficulty. Loki, the smug bastard, simply smirked as he deftly plucked his dagger, which Tony had hurled at him out of spite, from midair. “I can do this all day, ya know,” Stark continued breathlessly, using his right hand to fend off the god while his left clamped over the wound on his leg.

Loki diverted the man’s subsequent repulsor blasts into the walls and ground with lazy waves of his hand, uncaring when debris from the impacts left grazes across his skin, and once the Iron Man realized his normal methods of defense were useless, he resorted to brute force, landing a solid right hook to Loki’s jaw. “Well-met, Man of Iron,” the sorcerer chuckled, gingerly probing the skin, which had split under Tony’s metal fist. Although the blow had been powerful enough to send sparks flashing across his vision and snap his head to the side, the Trickster knew the punch was nothing more but a last minute act of desperation.

“Well, what’d ya know…looks like gods can bleed after all,” Tony observed derisively, but he was unable to hold back a subsequent scream of pain when the sorcerer’s dagger penetrated his body for a second time. “Son of a bitch,” he cried, as the deadly blade was sheathed right between the ribs of an armor-coated side. Since he was unable to breathe properly anymore, Tony had no choice but to retract his faceplate, his last sight being a pair of crimson eyes and a blinding blue light before his blood instantly froze in his veins.

“Yes, Man of Iron, we gods bleed as well,” Loki whispered to the ice-covered figure in front of him, running a reverent palm over Tony’s frozen jaw before turning his gaze to the two remaining Avengers. He frowned thoughtfully whenever he noticed the Captain was seated on the ground with his head in his hands, the unmoving form of Clint Barton at his feet.

“I was wondering when you’d get around to me.” Steve’s voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, but it managed to carry across the spacious room and into Loki’s ears nevertheless.

δ

Having not liked the way Clint had landed, Steve had decided to leave Thor and Loki alone in the hopes that he could somehow render aid to his fallen comrade, and it had taken every ounce of his willpower not to turn around for a peak when he’d heard the sound of Thor’s gurgling. Instead, he’d forced his soldier’s training to overrule his panic as he’d tried to provide Hawkeye with several attempts at resuscitation, but in the end he’d been unsuccessful. That was when reality had begun to set in for Steve, and he’d felt his eyes flood with tears as he grudgingly accepted the fact that Natasha was probably dead as well, for she had yet to show herself. Once his vision had started to blur, the Captain had sat down and cradled his head with numb hands while the sounds of metal being encased in ice drew a shaky sigh from his tight throat. In all his years, Steve had never faced a dilemma such as this, and the thought of facing off with someone who he had grown to love caused his chest to tighten whenever he felt Loki’s gaze finally land on him.

Loki eyed the defeated-looking Rogers with an air of perplexity, for he had expected the man to begin putting up a fight by now. “Is that all you have to say, Captain Rogers?” he asked the man snidely, for the soldier’s hoarse whisper had left a sour taste in his mouth. “Will you not stand and fight me?”

Steve nearly choked on a bitter laugh, which ironically sounded more like a sob, as he made his way to unsteady feet, his normally vibrant blue eyes now dull and sad. “I was always afraid that it would come down to this, because I knew deep down I’d have a hard time fighting you.”

Loki’s brows pinched together in bewilderment when the Captain’s voice trailed off into a croak, the blond making no attempt to pick up his shield from the floor. “Why will you not strike me down?” the god asked, lower lip quavering slightly.

When he felt Loki draw close, Steve sucked in a harsh breath and forced his eyes to meet a blood-red gaze, which he had not seen since the day they’d met in the park, and any hopes he may have had of forming a defense fled like shadows in the wake of the god’s ethereal beauty. “Because I can’t,” the Captain replied quietly, silent tears spilling over the rims of his eyes.

“I do not understand,” Loki muttered, fingers itching with the unwitting need to brush away the tears from the soldier’s cheeks.

“I think you do,” Steve smiled sadly, running a gentle thumb over the gash on Loki’s cheek. His fingers had begun to grow numb the second they had touched the Trickster’s skin, but he continued his ministration anyway. If he was to die, then it would be on his terms.

Loki’s face twisted with irritation at the gentle caress, and he angrily flung the blond’s hand away from his face. “What is the meaning of this, Rogers? What do you hope to prove with this charade?” he snarled, his frosted breath bringing a brilliant flush to the Captain’s cheeks.

“Same old Loki,” Steve sighed, his heavy head dipping due to his neck’s inability to support it any longer, “still pulling away whenever things get too personal.”

After forcing the man’s chin up, the blue eyes that stared back at Loki were unfocused and glassy, and it was the only warning he received before Steve’s knees abruptly buckled, leaving Loki to guide them both to the icy floor. “Captain Rogers?” he called out softly, thumbing away the vestiges of Steve’s tears and grimacing when the skin blistered in the wake of his touch.

The blond let out a pained moan before he slowly cracked his bleary eyes back open, and once he was finally able to make out the shadowy outline of Loki’s face, the Captain reached up and followed the hazy image until his hand cupped the side of the god’s jaw. “God help me but you’re the prettiest thing I ever did see,” he whispered, lips curling into a fond smile as he ran a thumb over the dark-haired man’s cheekbone. Steve felt his eyes close of their own accord after his voice tapered off, and right before his chest was pierced with an unbearable coldness, he could have sworn that it was raining, for there were drops of moisture landing gently on his cheeks and brow.

The moment he plunged his dagger of ice into Rogers’s weakened heart, Loki knew that something was wrong, and the blinding pain that lanced through his skull afterwards was manifested in a roar of thunder, which shook the building and blew out its numerous windows. “What have I done?” he groaned, screwing his eyes shut and baring his teeth against the tidal wave of emotion that spilled forth from his mind. The wall of ice, which had buried the better half of his soul, abruptly shattered along with the windows, and Loki let out a choked sob of denial when Steve’s ashen face stared up at him from the floor, “No…no, oh please no.” He hastily gathered the limp form close and cradled the blond’s head against his chest as he began to rock convulsively, burying his harsh sobs into the crook of the Captain’s pulseless neck. “What have I done?”

“Why do you act so surprised, Trickster? Is this not how you deal with your enemies?”

Loki sucked in a sharp gust of air upon hearing the honeyed tones that drifted out of the shadows, every hair on his frost-bitten body standing on end as the pieces of this jumbled puzzle began to slide into place. “What is the meaning of this, Amora?” he ground out, turning a burning glare onto his once-partner in crime when the woman finally stepped out from her place of concealment.

The Enchantress favored him with a condescending smile. “Why, I opened your eyes of course. You have managed to grow quite soft in your time here, Loki,” Amora purred, running teasing fingertips over the ice statues as she made her way over to where Loki remained frozen in place. “Tell me; did you honestly believe you could find that which we the damned have always yearned for?”

The Trickster’s jaw clenched painfully tight at having his own, long-ago spoken words thrown back in his face; however, beneath the Enchantress’s coy façade he sensed an underlying current of bitterness and if he was not mistaken a healthy dose of jealousy. “I see what this is about,” he murmured under his breath, eyes never leaving Steve’s slack face as he carefully maneuvered the man’s head back to the floor. “It must have burned a hole in your stomach to see me happy while you languished in your vain quest to attain Thor’s love, so you chose to take away my joy out of spite.” Loki gave the Captain’s brow a light kiss before he stood and fixed Amora with a knowing smirk, shaking his head in mock disappointment as he tisked, “Shame on you, Amora, I thought you above such things as petty jealousy.”

The Enchantress’s comely face warped into a mask of distain as she and Loki began a slow circling of one another, her normally dulcet voice turning harsh when she spat, “You’ve wrapped yourself in lies for so long that you cannot see the truth anymore, even when it is right in front of you.” She pointed to Steve’s corpse and sneered, “You know as well as I do that you would have destroyed him eventually.”

Once again, Amora had parroted his own words back at him, and Loki allowed himself a bitter smile at the woman’s tactics. “Is this to be an exercise in reminding me of how great a bastard I am for preventing you from achieving Thor’s affection?” he drawled, halting his steps and adopting a semi-relaxed pose. He refused to allow Amora the pleasure of seeing him off-balance, for it would be akin to handing her the victory she so obviously craved. Loki knew he was the more skilled magician out of the two of them, and he vowed to put Amora in her place in retribution for the suffering she had inflicted on his already-fragile psyche.

Having grown impatient with Loki’s blithe responses and calm demeanor, the Enchantress struck out with a whip of magic, which left a gash across the Trickster’s unmarred cheek. “Why do you continue to lie to yourself?!” she screamed, green claws of light scraping across Loki’s chest as Amora raked a hand through the air. “Your darkness will consume you and all of those you care about most, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it, those were your words to me, remember?” Tears of fury trailed down the sorceress’s flushed cheeks as she stalked closer to her unmoving prey, fingers toying with ribbons of unrestrained magic. “What makes you think you are better than me that you should be afforded the very same things you ridiculed me for desiring?” Amora hissed, raising her hand for a blow to the Trickster’s face, which never came.

While his body was half-turned from the effect of the witch’s strikes, Loki managed to conjure up another dagger of ice, and he wasted no time in plunging it into Amora’s chest when he felt her presence in front of him. “I know you think me weak for indulging in an affinity for a mortal, but I assure you that I have never once lost sight of what I am, Amora, he said mildly, the lie dripping off of his tongue with practiced ease before he twisted his icy blade with grim satisfaction.

“It will not last, Loki. In the end, we destroy everything we touch, remember?” the Enchantress croaked, her parting words casting a shadow of fear over the Trickster’s tumultuous mind. Looking at the apprehensive frown that painted Loki’s features, she knew she had won, and her heavy-lidded eyes fluttered closed before she sank to the ground, her lips spreading into a blood-stained grin.

The storm that had begun to rage in the wake of Steve’s death was now whipping through the building’s open windows, but Loki paid no mind to the harsh winds and thunderous clashes. Was this truly the destiny he was doomed to live out? A quiet sob shook his weary body at the sight of his brother’s blood-soaked corpse, and in that moment he knew he had never truly wished to see Thor dead. Despite his vehement denials to the contrary, Loki’s discovery about his Jotun heritage had changed very little in the way that he viewed the god of thunder, for he had and would always love Thor whether they be brothers in blood or bond.

When the sorcerer’s eyes finally landed on the unmoving form of Captain America, he promptly collapsed into a boneless heap, body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. “What have I done?” he cried breathlessly, his heaving wails mixing with the claps of thunder, which shook the very foundation he was sprawled upon. While memories of his time spent with Steve played behind his closed eyes like moving pictures on a never-ending reel, Loki choked back a vicious scream at having destroyed something that had brought him a measure of happiness before he conjured one last dagger and thrust it into his own heart.

The last thought that flitted through his head as he slowly collapsed onto his back was that Amora had been right about him after all. Even if he hadn't meant to, he'd still managed to destroy everything he held dear in a matter of moments. Loki watched in lazy fascination as the building around him started to crumble, and just before a piece of debris crushed him into dust, he could have sworn he heard someone fervently calling his name.

δ

Loki’s eyes snapped wide open when he found himself unable to breathe, and during his struggle to sit upright the god discovered that the weight around him was not a pile of rubble but was in fact a pair of familiar arms. “Thank God,” his embracer sighed, and the Trickster released an involuntary whimper as the soothing sound of Steve Rogers’s voice washed over the pounding in his ears. “You had me worried for a while there,” the blond whispered, while Loki clutched at the soldier's arms like a drowning man would a life preserver.

After the vivid nightmare he had just endured at the hands of Amora, Loki would have liked nothing more than to remain where he was; however, a look down at his azure fingers, which were wrapped around Steve’s plaid-covered forearms, brought a wave of bile to the back of his throat. “How long was I unconscious?” he rasped, slowly pulling out of the Captain’s comforting hold.

“I can’t say for sure,” Steve murmured, his brow furrowing in concern whenever Loki pulled away to glare at his blue-tinged hands. “When I came by two hours ago, you were half-frozen and in the throes of your nightmare.”

“Did my skin hurt you?” Loki ran troubled eyes over the Captain’s body but found no traces of burns until the man held up his slightly-reddened palms.

“I didn’t think I could still get frostbite, but that skin of yours…it really puts the serum to the test,” Steve chuckled sheepishly, glancing up at the god through lowered lashes.

If the circumstances had been different, Loki would have gladly taken full advantage of the way the Captain was eyeing him, for the blond’s penetrating stare never failed to leave him mesmerized. Unfortunately, he failed to see the appeal of his Jotun form and had no qualms about voicing his thoughts quite vehemently.

“Does this have something to do with your nightmare?” Steve inquired gently, curling a hand around the god’s chin and forcing Loki to meet his gaze, “because you weren’t nearly this worked up when I found you that day in the park.”

Loki felt his lower lip begin to tremble under the soldier’s knowing stare, and he released a shaky sigh whenever Steve reached up and rubbed a thumb over it in reassurance, his eyes fluttering closed while his tongue sneaked out for a taste of the man’s warm skin. “I fear you will not like what I have to say, Captain,” he swallowed thickly, hands reaching out to pull the blond closer, “and I dare say that it will make you wish to end our association.”

Although he didn’t like the sound of that, Steve nevertheless kept his soft smile in place as he wrapped the god in a firm embrace, murmuring, “How about we start with what’s bothering you and then cross that other bridge when we get to it?” into a cobalt-stained ear.

By the time the Trickster finished relaying the details of his spell-induced dream, both men’s faces were covered in silent tears, and Steve was wishing that he’d been able to get to Loki sooner. His fingers unconsciously flexed at the desire to locate the Enchantress and give her a piece of his mind, and the soldier knew that he would be laying waste to several heavy bags once he returned to the mansion. To think that Loki had spent God knows how long trapped inside his own head with no way to free himself from such a foul dream, it was enough to break Steve’s heart.

“Where do we go from here, Captain?” Loki asked plaintively, ruby irises locking onto watery blue as Steve fit a warm palm to his icy cheek. Even though saying goodbye would pain him greatly, Loki wouldn’t blame the Captain if he chose to walk away, for it was a miracle they’d managed to stay together this long considering their current affiliations.

“I guess we just keep doing what we’ve been doing and take things one day at a time.” The Captain’s voice was unwavering as he gently thumbed away the remnants of tears from Loki’s cheeks before he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to the wrinkle between Loki’s brows. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even get you to start calling me by my name one day.”

Loki let out a huff of laughter when he felt Steve smile against his forehead. “Aye, perhaps you will,” he sniffed, lips curling into a coy grin as he deliberately paused before whispering, “Steven.” Needless to say, if he had known just how much the soldier would appreciate the action, Loki would have begun calling Steve by his given name months ago.


End file.
